Agent Bridgit Jones made her way through the aquaduct that she hoped lead to Gillian's lair. The place wasn't the cleanest in the world, but then again, Gillian was hardly clean himself. Smuggling, money laundering, gun running, trafficking, the guy was bad news all around.
He wanted her - fish-scaled butt and all. That wasn't going to happen, though she'd be perfectly happy to let him believe that until it was too late. She wanted the Proteus serum back. Nemo had laid out an entirely too convincing a case for why it would be bad for Gillian to have it, but he'd also emphasized that getting his hands on her was unacceptable too. Which was why she was going in through the water conduit rather than the front door, armed to take care of any muta-pikes, nuke-sharks or meta-crocs. There were times she wished that she had the siren song that her legendary forebears had, but she couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. She was rather wicked with a knife, however.